Cathemeral
by Out Live a Lie
Summary: Every morn she would wake with sweat clinging to her brow and an unnameable feeling blooming beneath her breast. Reminders of her dreams. Swan Queen FTL - AU.


**I honestly have no idea how this happened – it just kinda did as I was taking a break from my Gelphie sequel. Not my normal writing, but it was refreshing to write something very, very different. Even if I do not feel completely confident in the outcome, but I do have a habit of feeling negative about my writing no matter what. So hopefully it is enjoyable despite my personal opinion.**

**I did end up coming up with quite the backstory for this, and how things could move forward, so why it may appear freeformed it isn't in reality. Still, this was never something I intended to write, the idea just kept popping up in my head, hence how it 'kinda just happened'.**

* * *

The maid froze, the hairbrush in her hand held mid-stroke as the Princess' lithe body shook – trembling, until in her irritation, the Princess sent the servant scurrying away. Something she would no doubt regret later for surely it would not appear well on her part. Her head tilted back for reasons beyond just the forthcoming scolding from her parents, her eyes squeezing shut as she drew in a steadying breath. Her rapidly rising chest slowed along with the shaking of her form, until at last she returned her gaze to her reflection seeming far calmer in herself than she truly was.

Every night seemed to grow worse.

Every morn she would wake with sweat clinging to her brow and an unnameable feeling blooming beneath her breast.

Just the thought of it caused her carefully reined grip on her body to loosen; she watched her reflection swallow with difficulty. Grounding herself by observing the young woman in the mirror until she regained full control of herself once more. It was a challenge, even though it was one she had fought many times over.

It had been light at first – the hovering touch – barely even registered in her waking hours, let alone acknowledged.

Then it grew stronger, more noticeable; the impact upon her remembered for longer than just the few brief, confused moments after first waking. The effect on her more prominent as days turned into weeks and weeks into months and so on.

The recollections of her dreams, (oh how she wished to call the scandalous images nightmares, but they brought her neither fear nor fright – the complete opposite if she were truthful), grew in their detail and vividness. What was originally a jumble of faint pictures she could scarce remember let alone discern, were now clear and fierce in their intensity. Imprinted on her mind like a fresh carving on a monument, plain and clear. For the most part.

She finished preparing her hair to the appropriate standard by herself. Something she was actually thankful for, as she much preferred dressing and readying herself rather than have a maid or two fussing around her. It was something she had only been able to do by herself recently due to her building irritability caused by the dreams. Perhaps the only effect of them she was appreciative of. For the other effects… well…

Her cheeks flushed at inopportune times with an increasing frequency as she went about her days. Blushing as she found herself reminiscing on what now seemed so real during her sleeping hours, drawing the attention of her teachers or parents. It was easy to pass off the reactions as the colour of youth, of excitement for her upcoming future independence – though she had yet to know who her betrothed would be. If she was being honest with herself, which she could not rightly be, none of these things, these excuses, were true. She felt as if her youth had ended long ago, around the beginning of her adolescence and her lessons focusing on what would be expected of her in court, and she had never seen the appeal of marriage. Especially if she and he, whoever he would be, barely knew one another, if at all.

The dreams… they left her with such strong emotions, impacted her far more than they should ever be capable of. Sitting in bed come morning, feeling the same effects day after day. Shameful, degrading, exhilarating… like a forbidden adventure. Adventures that were taken from her when she reached the first stages of girlhood, when her limbs had seemed to grow too long for her body and she began to lose the plumpness of youth.

Yet, despite the feelings they evoked reminding her of her adventures during childhood, of happier times, they were still so unseemly. So… wrong.

For the dreams, clear as they were now, were so very _intimate_. A level of intimacy she had never experienced, not even by her own hand, and never would until her marriage night. It was bizarre how her mind could conjure up such occurrences when she, herself, had such limited knowledge on the matter. It was simply not a topic that was spoken about except for the very bare minimum – or so she assumed. All she knew was that it was something that would occur between her and her husband, the logistics of which they would have to discover themselves come their marriage.

Yet her unconscious mind seemed to know so much. Far more than she could possibly ever learn. It made her consider that perhaps the long held pagan belief of reincarnation, one she had mocked as any logical individual would, held some merit after all. Their belief that a soul was an entity that had and would always exist, which carried the memories and experiences of all its past lives hidden deep within its current incarnation. It could very well explain her dreams; they could be her reliving memories of past lives. That, if it were true, which she would always doubt, could explain the magnitude of them. The passion that felt so unbelievably tangible. The… the fulfilment – or as close to it as she ever came – she felt in those short moments on waking, though it soon vanished as her abashment and self-reproach set in swiftly.

The touch sweeping, gentle, dare she say loving? It would press against her in the most intimate of ways, caressing, probing, but never penetrating. She would wake, quivering, her heart beating a heavy tempo against her breastbone as she was consumed by her desperation for the feelings to reach completion. For the pleasure to reach its culmination. Soon, as the moments passed and she slid from her bed and prepared for the day ahead, the desperation was replaced with disgust, revulsion that she had craved such things to such a degree. To think! The source was nothing but a dream! She knew the figure captured in her dreams was always the same despite being unable to grasp their features in her mind's eye, they felt like how she imagined an old and treasured lover to feel, and yet their form was so feminine.

It was not proper.

So she tried to push the vague, but strongly impacting recollections of her dreams away as she went about the daily tasks assigned to her. Lessons in etiquette, political learnings and even history, all to make her eventual marriage and possible movement to another court all the easier for her. She would promise herself that she would bury those memories and thoughts away deeply, never to be dwelled on again even as she fought against them. Her flesh heating.

Only for them to return the following day, as the dreams came night after night, growing in strength as they did.

She placed her hairbrush down on her bureau, not caring to put it away in its correct place. One of the maids could deal with that later, likely during her soft chiding from her father for treating the servants as she had been doing recently.

She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin high and tried to convince herself that today would be the day, or rather the night, where she would no longer be affected by her dreams.

It was her role to be strong, she was royalty after all, surely she could be strong in this too. Could she not?

It was an action often repeated, and rarely ever did it succeed.

* * *

Brain fogged, eyes heavy; she came to bleary.

She pressed a hand to her collarbone, to steady herself as she calmed her breathing. Her mind still muddled and confused by the unusualness of the situation, she had not had a disturbed night's sleep since her youth. Even with the dreams affecting her so, she slept through the night, feeling refreshed but hypersensitive when she awoke come morning. Now, however, the remnants of her dream fled her mind, hardly having begun. A rare occurrence now for it to fade so quickly.

Yet, her skin tingled with heat, cold beads of sweat had built up on her forehead during the short period of time she had been asleep, and warmth curled in the pit of her stomach. She released her left hand's grip on the sheets, pushing back her loose hair with her right, sighing in annoyance. She was no longer accustomed with waking before she was due and dealing with trying to fall back into sleep. Especially difficult now with the leftover impact of the dream affecting her form so noticeably.

The fire spat weakly, the wind outside audible in the chimney for a short moment, but falling silently soon after. She pressed her eyes closed tightly, intent on giving into the weight of the sluggish feeling permeating her form, encouraging herself to return to sleep as swiftly as she possibly could.

She fought back a yawn, but in the end let it free, not caring enough in her privacy to raise a hand to cover it. For why should she have to? No one was watching or judging her here, in her own domain. It was one of the few freedoms she still had left.

"Oh, you have woken."

Gasping in shock, she sat upright. Her heart hammering against her ribs so fast she feared it may simply burst from the strain.

"You are stronger than I believed; no one has ever awoken before." The dark voice was pleased, astonished even.

An assassin? A misguided thief? A prowler who knew no better choosing to raid the wrong place?

No... as she found herself taking in the figure's appearance she knew what they were. Though it was hard to believe, for she had long thought such things were untrue. Mere stories made up to frighten people in their youth, to control rebellious girls. To ensure all behaved as they must.

It was unbelievable, but so were some of the things shown to her. Magic – she knew it existed, yet it was not until she saw it at a formal ball as a form of entertainment that she believed in its existence. Even if a part of her still suspected it was all a trick.

The figure's skin so different from her own, the eyes blown wide in hunger, the glint of foreign teeth in a smile.

A creature of the night. A legend, a myth; yet one sat poised before her, faintly lit by the smouldering embers of the dying fire. Poised at the foot of her bed, kneeling mere inches from her feet – so close she could reach out and touch her – though it all the Creature was eyeing her with such intensity it made her want to squirm. The woman seeming for all the world like a proud parent fawning over their outstanding infant would. Or like a wolf stalking a fawn. An intruder who could only ever have one thing on their mind. If the stories held their merit.

And the Princess was not frightened.

Not like she should be. Her body was still weighed down by the need for rest, rather than throwing it from her in panic. It was not a normal reaction, she almost laughed at that thought, she had never been particularly 'normal', she would much rather wear breeches and ride bareback than partake in the proper behaviour that was expected of her. Though now with others and that voice of reason in her head, she found herself behaving as she 'should' more and more. A larger part of herself hated even acknowledging that, it still wanted the semblance of freedom she had been allotted in childhood.

"Why am I not afraid?" She asked in a whisper, not expecting an answer of any kind. She received one regardless.

"Because you needn't be."

Except she should, shouldn't she? She tried to justify what she should be feeling, as if she was trying to convince herself of how she, logically, knew she should react and think. Yet she did not feel that way emotionally. Not at all.

"But, you are a –

She stumbled over the next word, scarce able to believe it herself. She actually felt thankful when the intruder finished the sentence for her.

"A child of the night."

While that was not the term The Princess was going to use, she did not protest its usage. Instead she asked faintly, still disbelieving in spite of the evidence, "Your kind are real?"

The Creature chuckled, her fangs gleaming as she grinned, "As real as children of the moon are."

The thought of calling for the guards that were never far away floated through her mind, almost as if she were merely considering what the weather the following day would be like. It was there, yet neither acted on nor thought of in detail. For, as she had realised just a few moments prior, she felt no panic, no threat to her person. Even the recollection of the stories she had been told, that this was how such creatures worked was not enough to lurch the Princess into hysteria.

No. Instead she was curious.

Simply curious.

The Creature must have known, for she released another laugh. A rich, uplifting sound that sent a wave of warmth through the Princess' chest.

Perhaps fearing that her reaction would be misinterpreted, the Princess hurried out a response to an unspoken question, "I find myself more inquisitive than fearful."

"I expected as much, you are truly what I imagined."

She struggled to swallow then for reasons she would never be able to name. A feeling, like a spark jumping to the skin not covered by her nightdress, sending the fine hairs there standing, and her legs pulling towards her slightly. A mistake when she noticed what it brought to her attention.

The Creature's nostrils blew wide, her head tilting. The Princess' gaze dropped, her eyes averted to her hands which now clutched the sheets before her chest, for it was with stark realisation that she remembered the heat that was still settled low in her stomach, the flush that must still stain her skin so blatantly.

What if she could _tell_? Oh how terrible would it be for someone to realise what it was that she hid from all others? Even a stranger, someone not quite human, such as this?

Why was she so concerned with what the intruder might think of her?

The woman made a noise in her throat, like one would when charmed by a young foal first finding its feet. It was enough to encourage the Princess to raise her head, noting with barely a hint of alarm that the Creature had moved closer, though she had not felt the bed shift beneath her weight – something she was certain she would have detected.

"What you imagined?" She asked, her legs straightening beneath the sheets as she relaxed, a gentle hand on her knee a soft encouragement to do so.

"Yes." Was the woman's rumbled reply, her smile returning like a comfort to the Princess. Like a special toy treasured in youth could bring back not memories when rediscovered, but emotions. The joy upon receiving it, the happiness of many days of play. The eternal comfort it would always bring.

She felt as if she knew her. As if they were old friends, or like kin. It was like there was a connection so deep between them that it tugged at her very marrow for them to be reunited. Connected once more.

Yet, there was something else beyond that feeling, a niggling thought at the back of her mind.

The hand that had pressed to her knee, that then rested to the side returned to tuck an errant curl of hair behind her ear, grazing the skin of her jaw as it retracted. If anyone else attempted to touch her in such a way she would surely have flinched, turned tail and ran, but here she allowed it. It brought a sense of comfort, of love –

It hit her then, her eyes opening wide, shredding the last of any weariness from her bones.

"You… you are the figure in my dreams."

The familiar flush and heat of embarrassment settled on her cheeks for acknowledging her secret, only this time it was even worse as it was verbally confirmed, not just a private memory of which no one else would be aware.

It washed over her, the surreality of her reaction, of the whole situation (how had the woman entered her room unnoticed by her or the guards? For the window was not an option, being as high up as she was. Nor was there anything to climb).

Perhaps… perhaps there was another explanation.

"Is this a dream?"

The question was simple sounding, childlike in a way. Embarrassingly so. And as the question left her lips she already knew how foolish it was. None of her dreams had felt this real, and lest she was remembering incorrectly, there had never been a deep conversation. Or many words exchanged at all. There were no lead ups to the events, the dreams always seeming to begin in the middle of… things.

"No, this is real," she whispered more to herself, answering her own question as she did. She would be aware if she were asleep, if this was a trick of her mind.

Yet, _how_ could it be real...? How could the figure from her dreams be balanced half over her form? She may have entertained the pagan belief of reincarnation as an explanation for her dreams, but even that had been short-lived as she accepted how completely foolish she was being. How desperate she was in her quest for an answer. Yet, even now the thought flickered briefly through her mind, the legends said that 'children of the night' (had that been the term she had used?) lived for an eternity. Was it possible they had met in a past life?

No! The Princess scolded herself, that was still unbelievable in her view.

The only other explanation was –

"You have taken advantage of me!" She snapped, unable to contain her anger as she was taught, both hands raising to shove harshly at the woman's shoulders, "You have used your… your mind tricks on me."

"No. Never." The woman barely flinched when the Princess raised her voice. Barely moved an inch when she was pushed again and again.

"What I remember of the legends, of what I have seen. There is no other explanation."

The Creature sat back on her knees, accepting the Princess' need for some space, her head bowed to the side in a motion that implored for absolution. The action pulled strangely at the Princess' heart, or rather her emotions, but she did her best to ignore it.

"I have fed off you – which I freely admit. I will answer all of your questions honestly."

"Be gone before I call the guards to take your head." The Princess forced her voice to remain strong, not to waver in the slightest, but the words felt wrong. They left a bad taste in the back of her mouth like a common curse. Like an ancient ill.

"But not like I have done to so many others." The Princess' frail attempt at anger fell, giving way to that strange feeling of before. The fading glow in the room outlined the woman's features; all the Princess could see was honesty. She did not want to believe it, yet she found herself doing so. "I would never do that to you."

Their eyes locked. The Princess struggled to swallow, finding herself bizarrely wishing the distance between them would shrink once again. That to touch, one of them need only reach out slightly, not stretch across a distance.

"I am drawn to you as you are to me."

"I'm…" The Princess stammered, though she was quick to realise that the Creature was correct. For if she was not then surely she would have been engulfed by fear from the very beginning. Called for the guards as soon as her eyes fluttered open and landed on an intruder, "I – I believe I may be."

"You are."

The conviction in the woman's words made her want to bristle, to raise her voice once more. Before she could, however, the Creature continued.

"I did not believe it myself at first. It takes time, you see, to accept something so substantial. But you will, as I did."

"That does not excuse your behaviour." Was the Princess' haughty reply.

"Perhaps not," the woman's lips pulled into a warming smile, her next words so genuine it made the Princess wish to wrap her in her arms. Hug her as she had not done in a long time to anyone, "It can be excused, can it not? I have been this way for a long time. I know nothing else."

The Princess was usually quick to anger, struggled often to cool her temper which popped up at inopportune times. Now, however, it was a challenge to find even one irate fibre in her body. All she felt was tolerance even acceptance.

If it were anyone else before her (and for reasons completely unknown to her, she actually allowed them to stay after they had intruded in her personal domain), she would never react in such a way.

"I wish to atone for my past behaviour –

"Only because you were caught?" The words were an accusation, but her tone was anything but.

"No. I have planned this for a while, but I…"

The Princess leant forward in her curiosity, her hands resting to her sides, no longer pulling or tugging at the sheets out of habit. The Creature had not hesitated once in her speech before then.

"I was weak."

The Princess' face creased in confusion, reaching out before she could register the motion to place a hand on the woman's shoulder. Gentle this time, unlike the harsh contact from before. The Creature hunched closer at the gesture, like a small animal desperate for affection. Though that reaction vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind the collected individual from before. Poised and calm.

"I want to atone for what I have done." She repeated, her nose brushing against the Princess'. It brought back flashes of her dreams… or when she thought they were.

_Her heart beating a heavy tempo, detectable even in the pulse point in her neck. Soft lips trailing along the beat, a tip of a tongue gliding over the spot._

_Her breath catching in her lungs. Limbs frozen around the figure. Fingers digging into the supple skin and muscles of the shoulders above her._

_A hand pressing between her thighs, a tender touch. Stroking, caressing, stirring such heat throughout her body. _

_The barely there scrape of the figure's teeth._

_The sound that escaped her mouth surprising and frightening her._

_The figure's laughter, a deep rumbling chuckle from somewhere far down in her form, "You need not be ashamed of what you feel."_

Her throat dry, she swallowed harshly to attempt to force moisture back into her mouth.

"That does not forgive you for taking advantage of me."

She felt, rather than saw, the creature tilt her head, their noses sliding against one another for a brief second.

"A side effect – that is all."

"What?" The Princess breathed, a furrow forming between her eyebrows.

"Of the bite." The woman pulled back, only slightly, her lips tugging up to show her fangs, "The anticoagulant –

Baffled by the unfamiliar word, the Princess' nose scrunched up once more. An action that seemed to amuse the Creature if the spark visible in her eyes was anything to judge by.

– one of its effects is to induce susceptibility. To make the process easier for both. Usually more participation takes place, but with you I found myself unable."

"The dreams were caused by you…"

"Feeding. Yes."

The Princess was not sure what she felt about that, she felt disconnected from the acknowledgement that every night, for a significant length of time, she had been a food source. She realised then, that through it all her hand had remained on the woman's shoulder. Her fingers tugging at the material, almost petting the skin beneath in a way. Her hand dropped away as if burned, her face reddened.

"I gave you no choice, but now I do. For I have watched and observed, I know what your destiny will be, the path you are expected to follow, I am far wiser now than I once was and I wish to aid you."

Acceptance. It was bizarre how she could hear all of this, and simply accept it. Perhaps she was just as weak as –

"I…" She began, anything to distract herself from spiralling thoughts and emotions, "I do not understand what you are suggesting. I cannot – it is not a simple thing to believe."

The Princess found herself reclining further back, her argument weak and confused even to her own ears.

"You, my dear, will be _sold_ to the highest bidder, for the greatest gain. You will never be able to choose your own destiny."

The Creature spoke with a strength of belief the Princess rarely saw outside of religious zealots.

"You can never truly be Queen, merely a consort for you husband."

While that was something the Princess was well aware of, to hear it made her stomach churn painfully. That had happened in her family in the past, and to other royalty she was aware of; the sole female heir losing everything to the man she married. But the Princess had always had faith in her parents, they had broken a few traditions in their own union – or so she was informed. They had not borne down on her with too much pressure until recently, and she still held her trust in them.

"My parents have been fair to me; many others are married long before they reach my age."

"But not for much longer, not when your eligibility begins to wane." The Creature's eye softened, her head tilting in that way which had become familiar so quickly. A motion intended to cushion the blow of her words. No harm was intended, the Princess had been the victim of veiled, and not so veiled insults throughout her life. She knew the difference. "Which will not be much longer."

The woman's words were true, but the Princess had always known what was expected of her. Though she would be lying if she said she had not always held the hope that her parents would allow her to choose her own fate, "And what exactly makes you so certain that this is not what I want?"

"Because, my little Princess, I have been were you now sit." The Princess shivered, the endearment striking in a way none else had, yet the name had been used before by others. The Creature tilted her head away, shrouding her features in growing shadows as the last flickering embers in the fire lost their fight for life. "I have lived it."

This time, when the shiver travelled down the Princess' spine its source was not the same. Those few, short words said far more than she was expecting, and she had been raised to say much while allowing few words to ever pass her lips.

The Creature raised her head, enough light filtering across her features to enable the Princess to see the gentle downward curve of her lips, the barely noticeable furrow between her brows.

"… and now you are free."

All the hints of the sorrow vanished, causing the Princess to doubt what she had seen; perhaps it had been a trick of the strengthening shadows.

"Yes."

"I could be free also?"

"Yes."

"You are coercing me."

With a shake of her head, the Creature denied the weak dispute, before she froze looking conflicted. Unsure.

"Perhaps, though it is not my intention. I do wish for a family again."

The Princess' lips parted, fully intent on inquiring about the woman's family, but the Creature seemed to notice her slip, for she shook her head almost violently. Her eyes flickering about for a short moment.

"If you asked me to free you, I will not lie when I say I would want you by my side." She sucked in a breath, something that caused the Princess' brow to furrow, for were these creatures of the night supposed to be 'non-living'? Or was the word… ah, yes, undead.

Perhaps there was more to the legends than what she could vaguely recall.

"But if you wanted to leave, or for me to depart, then I would let you go or I would leave myself after teaching you what you must know."

Their exchange felt as if it had been going all night, yet the Princess was aware it had not lasted that long at all. Perhaps it was the weight of what she was being told, the impact of it all. The pull in the centre of her very being was still there, that peculiar feeling that was drawing her to the woman before her, something that had not waned once throughout it all. She wondered if the woman felt it as strongly as her, as she had suggested before.

"I do not know if I could."

"The pull is there isn't it?" The question was not an accusation, nor something said to induce stress in the Princess, to make her say what the woman wanted.

"Yes." Her voice was quiet, barely audible when the dying fire spat against the grate.

"Some would call it destiny, something I never believed in until recently." The Creature said gently, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips in thought, "I will let you call it whatever you wish. If you even want to acknowledge it."

"This is a lot to take in."

"And you have handled it all admirably." The woman cast a glance to the door, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, "I'm surprised you did not call for you guards immediately."

"I do not know what to think." She felt, rather than saw the amusement leave the Creature's form, replaced by… concern?

"Then how do you _feel_?" The Princess had to force her eyes to open, unsure when they had fluttered shut. The Creature hovered a mere breath aware and yet she still felt no fear. Not even the smallest flicker.

"Like a wolf claws beneath my breast."

The chuckle that followed her answer made her press her thighs together, a feeling she was more familiar with, and yet remained so new and foreign to her, stirring in the depths of her stomach. Rekindling what had lain dormant since her early awakening.

"That is not what I was asking."

The Princess flushed, her lips parted as she bowed her head to avert her gaze.

"No Princess," the Creature scolded gently, lifting the Princess' chin with the tip of her forefinger. "Do not feel shame. That may not have been the answer I sought with my question, but it pleases me greatly."

"You expect me to feel joy at pleasing you?" The Princess tried to force wrath into her words, but failed as she had time and time again during the course of this conversation. For inside she felt just that, what she had said, joy. Pleasure.

The Creature adjusted her hand, cupping the Princess' chin, sweeping her thumb slowly across her bottom lip.

"Does it hurt?"

The Princess' face furrowed in confusion, something that was so unbecoming, something she had done throughout this meeting, but which she now allowed, if only due to the amusement it caused to dance in the other woman's eyes again and again.

"The wolf beneath your breast?" The woman asked, running the knuckles of her other hand over the Princess' cheek, brushing away some hair that clung there stubbornly.

"Yes – no. Not quite." She breathed in response, "Not in the way I expect it should."

"Ah…" The Creature sighed, "I understand."

"And you can help?"

"With no doubt. If you wanted me to."

The Princess still did not know what to do with her hands, one had risen, of its own accord to circle around the woman's wrist. The other sinking its fingers into the Creature's shirt as it had done before. She smelt of earth and sweet grass, a combination that reminded her of the few moments of freedom she was allowed to pursue in her life.

"The freedom you promised…"

"And still do."

"If I were to ask you to leave me be?"

"Then I would."

"To stay, hidden though you may be?"

"Yes."

"And if I asked you to do what I asked before, to free me of this life?"

"With no hesitation."

The Princess liked to believe that she could tell when someone was deceiving her, manipulating or lying. Perhaps she_ had_ been manipulated by the woman, the stories of her kind were long told of influencing, control and seduction. Yet she had noticed things that conflicted greatly with those very same stories during this short meeting.

But her heart, it spoke to her, it told her that there was something different. Unique about the woman before her, that made her words that of truth. There was more to see than what was on the surface.

Still, if the Creature was drawn to her as she claimed, then she would be aware of the simplest of facts. Something a monster, a parasitic predator would never consider learning, even if only in order of manipulation. Of an easy meal.

"Do you even know my name?"

"Of course I do." The woman smiled, her eyes glinting as she leant forward to brush their noses together once more, lowing her voice as she did, "for it is as regal as you."

"And…" The Princess queried, fighting a joyful expression of her own at the woman's words, it seemed almost expected that the woman would turn such a small question and answer into a form of flattery. The meaning clear to the Princess.

"Mine?"

"Yes."

The woman tilted her head, eyes gleaming in what was left of the light of the fire. Barely a hair's breadth existed between them, the Princess trying weakly to contain herself as the one single word, the answer, fell from the other woman's lips as almost nothing but breath:

"Emma."

**END**


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